The Nature of Evil
by hazelmom
Summary: McGee is haunted by familiar spririts. A story in four parts. Written for DNAchemLia for WEE challenge. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: for the White Elephant Exchange this year, I wrote a story for DNAchemLia. She likes ghost stories. I know almost nothing about ghost stories, but I wanted the challenge. I will post it a chapter every 2 days until it is done. Sheila

**The Nature of Evil**

Chapter 1

There was enough of a breeze so that his suit coat kept flapping despite securing all buttons. He tried to ignore it as he stood in front of her grave. He concentrated on it, trying to figure out what proper procedure was when visiting a cemetery. More than that, he had to figure out what she might want of him.

It was 50 degrees Fahrenheit, but the wind was cold and wet, previewing the rain he'd read about in the forecast. He folded his arms against the cold, and stared at the granite stone. There was nothing unique about it. It was similar to all the others, and that bothered him. He remembered Kate's drive and sense of duty being remarkable, and it felt wrong that there wasn't something marking that. She'd always been a soldier in the purest sense of the word.

The bouquet he placed in front of her stone was impressive, and he had the credit card receipt to prove it. No funky colors for Kate. Just deep, blood red roses. Unlike Abby, Kate never colored outside the lines. She would want her flowers to be a color found in nature; something that echoed her classic beauty.

The wind picked up, but he didn't move. He'd come all this way to make it right- if only he could figure out what that meant. He noticed weeds tugging at the edges of the stone, and he dropped to his knees and pulled them. He gathered them up, dirty roots and all, and stuffed them in his suit coat pocket. Then he sat back on his haunches and worried his lip. "Kate, is this going to help? Is this what you needed? I have to guess, you know. It's not like you're helping me out or anything. Do you feel like we forgot about you? We didn't. None of us have. Just last month an old friend from the Secret Service stopped by. He'd gone to Afghanistan after 9/11 and had just retired. He didn't know you'd passed. He stopped by because he'd been thinking about you. We had to tell him and that was hard, and you could just feel the mood drop after he left. Tony disappeared and didn't come back for three hours. Boss, he just kept staring at your desk, and I know he wasn't looking at Ziva."

A fine mist blew in the wind and he knew a downpour was imminent. "I feel ridiculous. I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm scared. I don't sleep. I don't eat right. My hands tremble all the time, and as much as I don't believe in ghosts, this was the only thing I could think to do- even if it's only symbolic."

Big, wet drops hit his face. "Your mom is only a few miles from here. Will it be too weird to visit? I feel like I should. If honoring you is the antidote to this thing, then this has to be part of it. I just hope she doesn't think it's too random."

….

He sat stiffly in the Todd home, perched upright on the couch. He hadn't taken time to change and his suit was slightly damp and wrinkled. She'd insisted on taking his jacket and returned with an old Indiana State sweatshirt- undoubtedly Kate's father's.

Her fussing embarrassed him, but he was too polite to object and he accepted the hot tea with thanks. She'd just hung his suit jacket in the laundry room, and he worried it would be hours before he could make a gracious exit.

The living room was solid middle class frugality. It was crowded with family heirlooms, and furniture that was decades old, but carefully maintained and spotless.

Amanda Todd sat down finally and smiled. "It's so sweet of you to stop. What brought you to town?"

"I have a case in Indianapolis," he lied. "I just thought it would be nice to stop by and pay my respects. I apologize for not calling ahead. I should've done that."

"Of course not! You're a very busy agent. As it was you drove at least two hours away to stop in on an old lady. I couldn't be happier to see you."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

She smiled. "I'd ask you to call me Amanda, but I remember you well, Agent McGee. You're too polite for that. Kaitlyn spoke of you often."

"She did?"

"All of you. My dear girl called me 3-4 times a week, and while she didn't discuss cases, she loved talking about her team."

"I don't know," he said, sipping from his cup.

"Oh yes. I heard about all of you. The enigmatic Gibbs who inspired loyalty like no one she'd ever known. The goofy but big hearted DiNozzo with his amazing instincts. Sweet, brilliant Abby who taught my Kaitlyn to be a little less buttoned up. And then there was you, the impossibly young and earnest agent with the sharp intellect. You were all her family away from home."

"I never knew. It's makes me sad it took so long for me to stop and pay my respects."

She shook her head. "You're all too busy. And you're doing God's work. I say a prayer for all of you every night."

He reddened. "We appreciate it, Ma'am."

"How is the team doing?"

"We are all good. We've stayed together for a long time. More than most teams. Don't know why that is exactly, but I know I'm exactly where I am supposed to be, and I can't really imagine leaving."

She nodded. "Most people never find what you've found in a work environment. I'm glad you haven't let ambition sully it."

"Never thought about like that, but I think you have a good point."

For a moment, neither said anything. Then Amanda Todd got up and returned with a couple of albums. "It's always unclear what one does when they stop to visit. People are always so worried about bringing sadness and pain, but honestly, it's such a treat to talk about my darling girl. It's doesn't hurt me a bit. Can I share some pictures with you?"

"Of course."

She sat down next to him, and opened one of the large books. "I know everyone else keeps pictures on the computer these days, but I'll always prefer my books. Let me show you some pictures of Kaitlyn in high school. She was so young and pretty, and all she wanted to do was change the world."

McGee got lost in her narrative of Kate through the years, and he was grateful that she took charge. He enjoyed watching Kate grow up in the albums- every picture a testament to her passion and goodness. He lost track of time, and was surprised when she pointed out that it had gotten dark out.

"I'm sure you're hungry, and I've put nothing on the stove."

Blinking back to the present, he said. "I wish I could stay longer, but I have a plane to catch."

Another lie. A quick glance at his phone told him that he'd missed his flight back to D.C. She eyed him and he could tell she could sense the truth, but she didn't push. She just fetched his coat, but insisted he keep the old sweatshirt. He squeezed her hands, and uncharacteristically leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you so much for sharing all of these stories with me."

It was still drizzling when he walked out to the car, and he saw her standing at the living room window watching him as he drove away.

….

He sat up, breathing hard. It took a moment to remember his surroundings. The hotel room was cheap and stale, but it was near the airport. He glanced at the clock. It was 2:30 a.m. and he groaned. He still had a couple of hours he could sleep before boarding the 7 a.m. flight.

He rubbed at his face with shaky hands. She was back as big and three dimensional as anything in his waking life. The dreams themselves were not important and he rarely remembered details. All he remembered was Kate Todd watching him with worried eyes.

"Kate," he said into the darkness. "Why are you here all the time? I can't seem to get you out of my head."

He felt pressure at the end of the bed and he sucked in breath.

"You're in the room, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Please God no. I can't handle this."

He couldn't see her. There was no ghostly apparition, but her presence was clear. His hyper-logical mind should've rebelled but something about it felt natural as if she'd been there all this time, but was only now acknowledging it.

"Why Kate? Why is this happening?"

He felt the pressure of her hand on his thigh, but it inspired nothing but a feeling of comfort. "I don't know, Tim."

He shook his head. "Please. You have to know why. You came to me."

"I am here, but I don't know the reason."

"Am I crazy? Have I lost my hold on reality?"

"No."

"Do you come to others too?"

"I have."

"And you spoke to them?"

"Only a five year old girl named Carly. I was with her for a year."

"Why?"

"She needed me."

"Do I need you?"

"Yes."

"Why? Is someone going to hurt me? Are you a premonition? If you are, consider me forewarned. You can go now. I can watch out for myself."

"I'm not a premonition."

"Kate, your presence is destroying my life. I can't function."

Her touch shifted and he felt a warm presence on his shoulder. "I'm not trying to hurt you."

"You're scaring me."

"You're scaring yourself, Tim. Your lack of sleep is happening because you refuse to accept what you can not explain."

"I don't believe in ghosts."

"Therein lies your problem. Carly was willing to accept me as I am. I ended up being tremendous comfort for her. You are unwilling to tolerate my presence. That's why you're struggling so much."

"What did she need you for?"

He felt a sense of outrage in her touch. "She was being abused by an uncle. She is what you would term as autistic, and she didn't have the language to understand her pain or ask for help. She needed me."

Her emotion surged through him like a bolt of lightning. "Is this why you're here? Tell me something- anything! I'll find her. I will protect her. You have my promise."

The shape of her fingers squeezed his shoulder. "Her mother noticed that something was off. She installed a camera, and Carly is safe now. They caught him and he's is in jail."

He shook his head. "What are the parallels? I'm not a helpless little girl. I can take care of myself."

"I don't know, Tim. I only know that Carly was the last person to need me- before you."

"And I'm just supposed to accept your presence without any understanding of it."

"You'll sleep better."

"I don't think I can do this, Kate."

"But you have to. You need to."

"I don't need you. Please understand that. I will be fine. Please give me some peace."

"It's not my decision to be here. I don't get to choose to stay nor do I get to choose to go. I only know that I am for a reason."

"Who chooses, Kate? Who?"

"It's not a who or a what or a thing. What this is, is not tempered by time or space or anything linear. I am here because I am meant to be here. Why that is will be revealed when it is meant to be revealed."

"Why me?"

"That will be revealed to both of us when it's time.

McGee looked at the digital time. "It's only 3 a.m. and I've slept less than two hours. I'm not going to be able to sleep after this. I'm going to have to get on a flight in four hours, then grab a cab to work, and then try to explain to Gibbs why I'm three hours late for work without revealing that I spent the weekend at your graveside begging you to leave me alone."

"Lying to Gibbs isn't going to work for you." He could sense some akin to amusement in her voice.

"Telling the truth is going to land me in a hospital."

"Relax, Tim. There are people in your life that will understand this. I can feel it."

…

He tumbled out of the elevator and glanced at the clock across the room. It was almost noon. He still wore yesterday's clothes, and despite ironing them, he couldn't rid them of the mustiness of the previous day's rain.

He rushed past his teammates and slung his backpack behind his chair and then he sat. Ziva and Tony watched him wordlessly. He knew that but he ignored them as he powered up his computer. His trembling fingers wouldn't cooperate, and it took three tries to get his password right.

"McGee."

He closed his eyes. "How mad is he? I mean, I couldn't really call from where I was but I texted you both."

Tony studied him carefully. "It's not a crime to be late or it wouldn't be if this wasn't the morning when we were doing our quarterly file review with Vance."

Bile rose in McGee's gut. He'd completely forgotten. The quarterly file review was an event similar to the Spanish Inquisition, and it involved not just Vance but several department heads. Being the organized one, it was his job to prepare the cases for review. "What happened?"

Ziva shrugged. "We don't know. When you didn't show, Gibbs went up alone and we haven't seen him since. Are you okay? You look even worse than you did last week."

"Actually, you remind me of an old detective I knew back in Baltimore. Drank like a fish. Eyes like pissholes in the snow. Trembling hands."

McGee swallowed. "I'm not drinking, Tony."

"I know. Almost wish you were. Then I'd know what needed doing. Something is very wrong with you."

"Trouble sleeping."

Tony slammed a fist on his desk. "You said that last week and the week before! This is more than insomnia and you know it! I'm tired of the lies."

"Well, I don't what the truth is anymore," he said softly. "So don't ask me any more questions."

"We're worried, McGee."

He looked down at his desk. "I'm not sick and I'm not in danger. For right now, that's going to have to be good enough."

"Well, it's not, Tim."

McGee looked up into the penetrating eyes of Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

He jumped up. "I am so sorry, Boss."

Gibbs walked past him and dropped a large sheaf of files on DiNozzo's desk. "Our file review is rescheduled for tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. Have these ready by then."

"Come on, Boss. This is McGee's thing."

"Are you the senior agent, Tony?"

He nodded.

"Then make it your thing."

Gibbs turned and looked at McGee for a long moment. "Grab your gear and come with me."

Gibbs didn't wait for a response as he headed for the elevator. Tim grabbed his backpack and followed. Neither said anything in the elevator or in the hallway as he followed his boss into Autopsy.

Ducky and Jimmy looked up as they entered. Gibbs gave Palmer a hard look and the young man scattered. Gibbs pointed to a chair and McGee sat. Gibbs leaned against a table and regarded him. "You look worse than you did last week."

"Boss, I am sorry. It won't ever happen again."

"I don't want to hear it."

Ducky frowned. "Jethro."

"In the last two weeks, I have watched you deteriorate. I gave you a week to figure it out. Last week, I knew I had to get involved. I talked to you twice. Told you we were here for you. Told you take time off. You said all you needed was a little rest. You told me that a quiet weekend would fix everything."

"Boss-"

Gibbs shook his head. "I don't think you had a quiet weekend. In fact, I understand that you are working on a case in Indianapolis. How's that case going?"

McGee closed his eyes. Ducky looked at Gibbs. "I don't understand. Is Timothy working on a special project?"

"I don't think so. I asked Vance. He said no. But it must be true. You told Kate's mother that."

"She called you?" McGee whispered.

"No, she didn't. She called her daughter, Rachel. You remember Dr. Cranston. Said she'd had a nice visit from one of Kate's teammates. But it left her worried. She said you seemed worn out, distracted. She wanted Rachel to talk to your boss and tell him you needed a rest."

"I shouldn't have visited her."

"Tim, I'm tired of guessing. If you can't talk to me, then talk to Ducky here. I don't even have to be here if you're uncomfortable."

"I'm so sorry."

"You know I don't care for apologies. I want the truth. I want to know how to help. And I'm telling you right now that you're not working on my team until I understand what's going on."

McGee hung his head. Ducky came over with a blood pressure cuff. "Let me check you out."

While he was pumping, McGee looked at Gibbs. "I was embarrassed. I didn't think you'd believe me. I didn't believe me."

"What's going on, McGee?" Gibbs' voice was soft.

"I'm not sleeping."

He chortled. "We know that. You look like a ghost these days."

McGee winced. "I'm having dreams- very vivid dreams. I can't shake them."

"175/130." Ducky shook his head. "Not acceptable, Timothy. How did these dreams bring you to Kate's hometown?"

McGee sighed. "She's in all of them. She's looking at me, shaking her head. She's sad."

"You went to her gravesite, didn't you?"

McGee turned to Ducky and nodded. "I thought the dreams were telling me that I'd forgotten her. I thought it would help to visit and pay my respects. Somehow, it made sense to do the same with her mother."

Ducky leaned forward. "Timothy, it's natural to worry about moving on. It happens to all of us. Right, Jethro?"

Gibbs was looking at McGee. "Yeah, it happens to all of us, but this is different, isn't McGee?"

"I just think I need some sleep."

"Come on, Tim. You're doing good. Tell me the rest."

McGee looked down at his hands. "It doesn't just happen when I'm sleep. She's there. I really think she's with me. She's talking to me...she touched me."

"What is she saying?"

He shook his head. "Ah, not much. She says she protects people now, and she says I need her."

"Why?"

He shook his head. "I know it's not real. Ghosts aren't real. I'm fighting it all the time. When she touched me last night, it felt every bit as real as any of you. That makes me a crazy person, doesn't it?"

Ducky exchanged looks with Gibbs and came over, checking McGee's irises. "Timothy, when you deny yourself sleep, psychosis can set in. I don't think you're crazy. I think you're hallucinating because you're so sleep deprived."

McGee let out a sigh of relief. "Really? You think that's all it is?"

"Absolutely! I'm going to prescribe you some sedatives. You need to sleep for a few days and when you wake, I think you're going to feel much better."

"Thanks Ducky. I mean it. I've been so scared."

"We could've avoided a lot of this, Tim, if you'd told us this a week ago."

"Sorry Boss, I thought it was something I could fix. Besides, I didn't want to bring up any painful memories of Kate for a you."

He shook his head. "For a smart guy, you sure are a bonehead."

Ducky handed him a script. "You're off for the next three days, but I'm going to want to check in with you tomorrow."

"Got it. I'm going to fill this right away and go home." McGee started for the door.

"Hold on there. We're not unleashing you on area roadways with your lack of sleep. I'm driving you home. I left my car outside of the evidence garage. Meet me down there in ten minutes."

Gibbs was gone before McGee could protest. Ducky put an arm around his shoulder. "Timothy, we are always here for you. Never worry that something is too stupid or sensitive for us ever."

…

McGee walked into the elevator nodding at the two agents from Terrorism and was surprised when it lurched upward. He hadn't paid enough attention to wait for a down elevator. He found a spot in the corner and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. The elevator stopped at 3 and the agents got off. There were a number of people that crowded in, but he was too tired to do more than nod briefly as he waited for the car to hit lower level.

The feeling came in a rush like one might feel when someone jumps out of nowhere and grabs you from behind, steel gliding across your neck. His eyes flew open but no one was touching him. Two women and a man were discussing GAO reports in a folder. Fear flooded his gut and up through his throat and he gripped the railings inside the car tightly. It was as if every danger he'd ever faced had crowded into the elevator, but he couldn't spot the threat.

One of the women turned and her brows furrowed in concern. "You're Special Agent McGee, right?"

He nodded curtly.

"Got a headache?" She cocked her head in sympathy.

They were all looking at him now, and it was all he could do to croak the word, "Migraine."

The man shook his head. "Horrible things, migraines. Have you tried a beta-blocker? My doc prescribed one to me, and I haven't had one in years."

His heart was beating so fast as to explode, but he did nothing but nod. "Thanks."

The elevator stopped and the three of them left, one of the women turning to give him a sympathetic smile. The doors closed and he let himself slide to the ground, landing on his knees. His gut lurched and he had to work to keep from vomiting fear all over the floor.

The door opened in the sub basement with McGee on his hands and knees struggling to catch his breath. He reached for a railing and pulled himself upright.

"Tim? You alright?"

He looked up sharply and found Gibbs watching him. "Boss, I tripped. Just too tired, I guess."

"You sure?"

There weren't words to describe what had just happened so he just nodded. "Let's just get the sedative, okay?"

….

The car ride with Gibbs was misery. Those wizened blue eyes studied him at every stoplight and it was all he could do to keep his breath steady. The naked fear rippled through him to the ends of his nerves. At the pharmacy, he handed Gibbs his script and insurance card, mumbling something about a migraine. He didn't trust that he could stay on his legs for any length of time. The minute Gibbs disappeared inside, McGee stumbled out of the car and ran around the corner. He leaned over and vomited everything onto the asphalt. He dry heaved for a few minutes more and then made his way back to the car. A few minutes later, Gibbs returned. The wary looks continued but he asked no questions.

McGee got into his apartment and locked the door behind him. His hands were shaking as he wrestled with the prescription bottle. Gibbs told him he could take one tablet every 8 hours, but he needed more than just sleep. He needed to erase whatever was happening to him. He opened the refrigerator and opened a bottle of wine. He swallowed three of the pills, tipped his head back and swigged the wine.

He pulled off his clothes and climbed into bed, staring up at the ceiling fan. He tried to get lost in its rhythmic motions, but the fear still surged through him. It was only when his eyes got heavy that he thought about the dangers of tripling his sedation.

….

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

The Nature of Evil

Chapter 2

Water assaulted his face and he scrambled to climb out of it, but arms held him down. He tried to fight but the other man was stronger.

"McGee! McGee, stop fighting with me!"

His eyes popped open and he found himself in the tub, DiNozzo holding him down. Water from the showerhead was still turned on his face and he turned away from it. "Get off me, Tony!"

"You're going to wake up, right?"

McGee stopped struggling and went limp in his arms. Tony reached over and turned off the spigot. His dress shirt was drenched and he sat back on the tile floor. "You scared us, you idiot!"

The door opened and a wide-eyed Ziva peered in. "Ambulance is on its way."

Tony shook his head. "Cancel it. He's fine."

McGee lifted his head from the side of the tub. "Why? All I was doing was sleeping."

"Gibbs dropped you off over 24 hours ago, and you wouldn't answer the phone when Ducky called. You wouldn't answer the damn door and then I spent ten minutes trying to roust you out of your bed. What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"I was sleeping," McGee slurred.

"Shut up," Tony said, getting up and reaching for a towel. He rubbed his face and head and then offered McGee a hand. McGee took it and DiNozzo dragged him out of the tub.

"Get some clothes on," Tony said, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

McGee came out 20 minutes later in jeans and a t-shirt. DiNozzo sat on the couch next to Ziva wearing McGee's favorite lavender dress shirt. He gave him a smirk. "It fits me real nice. Hope you don't have any trouble finding another one."

"I deserve that," Tim mumbled.

"You bet your ass you do."

McGee turned to find Gibbs and Ducky standing in his cramped living room with his prescription bottle. Ducky held it up. "Timothy, when did you find time to take three of these?"

McGee stared at him. The events of yesterday came flooding back and he chose his words carefully. "I couldn't sleep. I guess I thought more would help."

"With a glass of wine?"

He looked down. "Dumb, I suppose."

"If it were anyone else, I would say it was suicidal."

McGee blinked. "Ah Ducky, no! Never! I was careless, nothing more."

"I'm beginning to think you need some supervision." Gibbs said. "I knew you weren't right when I dropped you off."

"No, Boss, I'm good. The sleep has…helped me. I didn't have the dreams, you know."

"I want to trust you."

"You can."

Tony shook his head. "Boss, I don't know. Something is not right. Hasn't been for awhile."

McGee gave him a sharp look. "Well, I noticed how my room was ransacked. Did you find drugs or anything else that concerned you?"

He shrugged. "Your selection of porn could use a little updating but other than that…"

"There you have it. I was careless with the prescription. Take it. I had 24 hours of sleep and I don't need it anymore. I should be fine now. I can be back at work tomorrow."

Ducky looked at Gibbs. "I would like to check him out tomorrow."

Gibbs gave him a hard look. "Be in at 7 a.m. If you check out fine, we'll talk about putting you back at your desk."

McGee looked around. "Listen, I didn't mean to scare anyone. I've had a weird couple of weeks, but I'm putting it all behind me now. I promise."

Ziva gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Take care, my friend."

Tony slapped him on the back. "Next week, you and I are going to shop for a couple of good quality adult videos."

McGee rolled his eyes. "Tony, I don't have any porn in my house."

"Exactly. This actually concerns me more than not waking up thing."

McGee got all of them out of the apartment and then leaned against the door, eyes closed.

…..

The fear that had paralyzed him had dissipated, but he was left with an extreme sense of unease. It was nice outside so he took a long walk, and it felt good to walk with no sense of purpose or concern for time. In the evening, he toyed with his online games, but they couldn't provide the distraction he needed. It got late, and he wished he'd bargained with Ducky for just one more of those pills.

Finally, he crawled into bed around midnight and prayed for a quiet night.

…

"You don't need to be here."

"Sweetheart, you don't have a single clue as to what you're doing."

"I'm not your sweetheart."

"Kinda' wish our time at NIS had overlapped. It ain't just the senoritas that found me irresistible."

"I would've been able to resist. Believe me. You don't need to be here."

McGee rolled onto his side, groaning.

"I have to be here, Katie. You don't understand evil, and this situation calls for that particular expertise."

"I don't understand- you have some nerve, Franks!"

"You'd still be alive if you hadn't given Ari that pass. You know it and I know it."

"Don't you dare! It was very complicated!"

"Katie, you looked him in the eye, but you couldn't see it. You're a good protector, but not a good hunter. This situation calls for a hunter. That's why I'm here."

McGee moaned in his sleep.

"We are not talking about that right now." Kate sat next to Tim and put a hand on his waist.

McGee moved into her touch, his hand sliding up over hers.

Kate chuckled. "Tim, don't get confused here."

"Wake him up, Katie."

"Do not call me Katie!"

"You prefer I call you probie?"

"Call me Kate!"

McGee sat up suddenly, eyes blinking. "Kate?"

"Right here, Tim."

He looked into the darkness and shook his head. "No. Please no. Kate, I can't do this again."

"You have to. The evil has come to you. You felt it."

"I don't want to be a crazy person. I told them the truth and I could see the look in Gibbs' eyes."

She took his hand and squeezed. "Having a new experience, one you don't understand, doesn't make you crazy. You have to be brave and let this be what it is."

"Katie is right, McGee."

He startled at the other voice. "Who else is here?"

Franks chuckled. "Come on, son. I know we didn't spend that much time together but I always saw myself as memorable."

"Franks!?"

"In the fles- well, in the spirit anyway."

"This is getting to be so much worse," McGee moaned.

"Nice to see you too. Now, let's get started. Tell us about what you felt."

"You know about that?"

"We know enough."

"I've never been so afraid in my life. It was like something cold and black had descended on me, a danger I couldn't see. I was paralyzed with fear, but I couldn't identify a threat."

"That was evil you felt."

McGee screwed up his face. "Come on! How? I was just standing in an elevator. I deal with evil all the time, and I've never felt anything like that."

"You don't understand evil, boy."

Kate sighed. "Franks, you aren't the only one who understands evil."

Franks chuckled. "You and the boy scout here are excellent agents, but you came to this work because you wanted to make a difference- to protect the innocent. Some of us got into this work because we understand predators. People like Jethro and me could've gone either way. We know how their minds work we're hard men too. Our brains aren't that different."

"I've seen a lot of bad guys, Franks."

"Right there, McGee, you're showing me how much you don't know about evil. You've seen a lot of bad guys. People kill for greed or anger or out of fear. Some are mentally ill or addicted. Most of them are stupid, weak in character. They kill because they're aren't creative enough to do anything else."

"Killing is evil," McGee said. It was disconcerting to address the empty air in front of him.

"He has a point, Franks."

"Evil is deeper than just killing, my friends. Think about killing for the sake of suffering and pain only. Evil feeds on pain. That's all it cares about. Think about your killers. Who was it that was interested only in the pain?"

McGee closed his eyes. A visual came to mind. He remembered standing in the observation room staring at the man. He remembered how he kept shivering, despite the warmth in the room. "Kyle Boone."

"Good job, boy! I remember that devil. Probie tangled with him. He was evil. He lived solely to cause pain."

McGee nodded slowly. "That's why you're here."

"Jethro always said you were smart. There will always be murders and killers because there will always be stupidity, greed, and anger. I can't stop that. My job is to guide the living in the fight against evil."

"But why me? You said it yourself. The boss is much better suited for this. Why aren't you haunting him?"

His bedroom went silent.

"Kate? Franks?"

Then came Franks' gravelly voice. "He's not ready, Katie."

McGee blinked. "What does that mean?"

"You're the only one who can fix this, Tim," Kate said softly.

"Why? Is it my computer skills? Is he an online predator?"

Kate rested a hand on his shoulder. "You have many other skills as well, my friend."

"I can't believe I'm talking to you like you're really here."

Kate took both of his hands in hers. "I'm right here. Feel me. Believe. You need me…and him."

He shook his head. "You're asking too much."

"Listen up, boy. People are suffering. Lots of them. You're the only one who can stop it."

"Oh God." McGee took a deep breath. "What do I do?"

"Find the evil, boy. Find the evil."

….

McGee slept hard after they were gone. Something had shifted for him. They were real for him now, no longer a product of a damaged psyche. Their message was ominous, but he felt a sense of purpose now.

He got up with the sun, and made it into work before Ducky. He let the old Scot look him over, and they were both pleased to find that his blood pressure was normal. He answered truthfully when asked if the dreams had stopped. They had. What he was experiencing now had nothing to do with dreams.

There was a callout, and he responded with his team. Tony was especially jovial, hugging him twice for no reason. McGee didn't even protest the 2nd time when DiNozzo picked him up and twirled him around at the crime scene.

The case wasn't much of a head scratcher. Dead Marine in an apartment near Anacostia. Kitchen knife was missing and the neighbors told stories of fights with the dead man's girlfriend, the last one just the night previous. They caught the girlfriend stuffing her trunk with all the clothing she owned. Her story changed three times on the way back to NCIS. By the time they got her into interrogation, she was telling Ziva how he'd tried to break off their engagement because he found someone new. Then she broke down, sobbing facedown on the table as she realized what she'd done.

McGee watched this from behind the glass and recalled Frank's words about evil. Yesterday morning, this woman hadn't imagined that she would be in this position. Her anger had turned her into a killer, but was she evil? He suspected that she was nothing more than a stupid, selfish woman who couldn't see beyond the act of being dumped. The tragedy was in wasting a life.

Even with a clean confession, the paperwork was myriad, but he was an expert at this and by 4 p.m. he'd essentially organized the entire case. Tony and Ziva started making noises about an early night including a team dinner at the new Brazilian place. McGee mumbled excuses about catching up on paperwork, but Tony was relentless. It reminded McGee of how much Tony needed the few relationships he had in his life to be in balance.

He promised to meet them by 7 p.m. and then disappeared into the elevator. He'd been practicing his approach all afternoon. He arrived in accounting and looked around. It was with relief that he spotted two of the three people who had been in the elevator with him when he experienced the fear. He took a deep breath and strode forward.

"Hey, how are you doing?"

The two heads shot up.

"Remember me? Special Agent McGee."

The man gave his colleague a funny look. "Of course. We were in an elevator together a few days ago."

The woman smiled. "How is your migraine?"

"Better. Much better. In fact, I wanted to stop by and thank you for the tip about the beta-blockers. I went to my doctor, he prescribed them, and my head's been clear ever since."

"That's terrific!"

"Glad to hear it, Special Agent McGee."

McGee could feel the awkwardness. The feelings he experienced in the elevator weren't returning. "Where is your colleague- the other woman who was with you?"

"Ah, I think she's making copies."

McGee nodded. "Wanted to thank her too."

"We'll pass it on."

McGee leaned against the desk. "I'll wait."

The man shrugged and returned to his work. The woman gave McGee a look. "You know she's married and has grandkids."

He wondered if he could get Franks to shoot him now. It was as if all the embarrassment he'd suffered as a teenager hit him in one dose. "I I…uh, I was just dropping off some paperwork on this floor, and I thought I would stop."

They just stared at him.

He glanced at the ceiling, "Uh, I guess I'm a bit shy and uh, I'm supposed to practice initiating friendships."

The man frowned. "Says who?"

McGee bit the inside of his lip. "My boss. Apparently, it's a leadership thing, and I'm…being considered for a promotion."

"Oh, well that makes sense, I guess. Look, here comes, Margy."

The other woman came in with a sheaf of copies. She smiled. "Hello, Agent McGee."

"Hello," McGee concentrated. "Just stopped to say hi."

"His boss wants him to make more friends," said her co-worker helpfully.

"Oh," the woman put down her paper and gave him a motherly pat on the hand. "So nice for you."

McGee felt none of the powerful fear he'd experienced earlier. The ridiculousness of the exercise hit him. "Ah, mission accomplished. Gotta go."

"Anyone asks, we'll tell 'em you did good," said the man, giving him a thumbs up. McGee nodded and fled.

He kept going until he found an empty bathroom. He leaned over a sink and looked into the mirror. "This is stupid! Do you hear me, Franks? Those people aren't evil. There's nothing here! I'm back to feeling like a crazy person, you dead son of a bitch!"

The chuckle behind him was throaty but familiar. McGee whirled around. "Was that a joke? Did you enjoy that?"

"You are awkward. I'll say that for you. I bet Jethro dreads the idea of putting you undercover."

"Shut up, Mike! I mean it!"

"Really? What are you going to do if I don't?"

"There is no evil here!"

"Oh, there's evil in this building. It just ain't those folks."

"Then find it yourself!"

"Sorry boy, we need you. You're the vessel- like a conduit. We can't feel it until you do."

"There was no one else in that elevator."

"Must've been."

"There wasn't! I'm telling you."

"Close your eyes, McGee."

"No!"

"Listen to Uncle Mike and close your eyes."

McGee closed his eyes reluctantly.

"Think. Was there anyone else?"

He shook his head. "Just the three from Accounting."

"Before them."

"I don't remember."

"Come on, boy. Think. When you got on the elevator, was it empty?"

McGee squeezed his eyes. "No. There were two guys. Agents. Anti-Terrorism, I think."

"Good! Those are the fellers we want."

"I didn't feel anything while they were there."

"But you felt it after they left. Come on, boy. Let's go see them."

McGee didn't fight him. He was desperate for answers. Anti-Terrorism was on the same floor as Accounting. He wandered into the unit.

"Hey McGee, what brings you up to the penthouse?"

McGee smiled. Murphy was a great guy. Always friendly. "Just slummin', I guess."

"Playing softball on Sunday?"

Another agent, Reynolds, piped in. "Hey, don't encourage him. We want to win."

McGee relaxed. He understood these guys. "What will you pay me to stay away?"

"Nothing but I promise to make DiNozzo's life hell. How's that for you?"

"Tempting," McGee said. "How goes the war on terror?"

"Same old. Same old. I'm hopping a transport to Pakistan in two days. It's going to be sand and misery for the next 30 days."

"Sorry to hear it," McGee said as he moved about the room. He hit a spot in the room and it came. This time the fear came like a cloud burst, seeping into his pores like acid. He breathed in sharply. He was standing in front of an empty desk. "Hey Murph, who sits here?"

The man looked up. "Taylor. He's around here some place. Why?"

McGee scanned the desk quickly and his eyes landed on a baseball cap. "He's a Twins fan. Me too. Not many of us around here."

Murphy leaned back. "You don't seem like a sports fan to me."

McGee leaned against a supporting column. The fear had become a fire in his chest. He struggled for nonchalance. "You think I'm too geeky for sports? Baseball is cerebral. Even a blockhead like you would know that."

Murphy snorted. "That would explain my obsession with football."

Then a blonde man with piercing blue eyes came in, and Murphy nodded. "Hey Taylor, McGee here is a Twins fan like you."

The man's face was too ruddy to be called handsome, and he strode forward offering a hand. "Always happy to meet another Twinkie."

McGee felt bile rise in his throat. He took the hand and the cold rage that channeled through was electric. He was clutching the column with his other hand to stay upright. "Let me know the next time you catch a game at a bar."

The man smiled white, even teeth. "Sounds good. I'm a bit swamped now, but things are going to slow down after next week. Let's do it. My name is Len, by the way."

"Tim." McGee said, breathing shallow. "Gotta go. See ya'."

"Hey, you got a card."

McGee dug in his pocket and pulled one out. Taylor grabbed it, watching him carefully. "How do you think Hrbek is doing this year?"

McGee could sense the test. Taylor was no fool and he was clearly suspicious. It was to McGee's credit that he remembered Hrbek from the 1991 World Series. "I think he's an old man, Len."

"Just playing with ya', Tim."

McGee nodded. "See ya' later."

It wasn't until he got to the elevator that the fear started to subside. Back in the squad room, he tried to organize his thoughts about Len Taylor. He had no idea what made this guy evil. The only thing he was sure of was that no one did deep background on a suspect more thoroughly than Timothy McGee.

"Tim."

He looked up, surprised to actually see a face. "Hey boss."

Gibbs leaned against his desk. "They left for the Brazilian place an hour ago."

"Yeah, I guess I just have too much I need to catch up on."

"I don't want you here all night working on things. Already, I see that pinched look back in your face. I don't like it."

"Boss, I'm sleeping okay now. If I get work done, I'm going to stay relaxed."

"I don't buy it, Tim. There's something about you that's still not right. Pack up your things. I don't want to see you again until tomorrow morning."

McGee knew better than to protest. He grabbed his coat and backpack and left. Hacking into the NCIS system from home would be a cinch.

…

He hacked without caution into the night. It wasn't just NCIS access he sought. He pulled information on everything: financials, police, and FBI. Leonard Taylor was 39 years old, a ten year veteran of NCIS. Previously, he'd been a sailor on the Ronald Reagan. He had a wife but no kids. There was no history of domestic violence. It was four in the morning when he stumbled upon the two interesting bits of information. The first had to do with the Ronald Reagan. During the time he was on board, there were a series of sexual assaults against women. Three were reported, but the file he read speculated that this number was under-reported. On a ship, it was hard to run, impossible to hide yet the agent afloat had never been able to identify the perpetrator.

In anti-terrorism, Taylor worked out of country frequently, primarily in Middle Eastern and African Countries. His jacket showed two reports of excessive violence in interrogation. Even more interesting was the fact that one supervisor worried that he enjoyed interrogation a little too much. McGee sat back and contemplated this. Boss was an expert in interrogation, and it could be argued that he enjoyed interrogation. Still, McGee knew that Boss didn't enjoy the pain it caused. Interrogation was grueling for everyone, even the interrogator. Gibbs did it because he was good at it, and it helped him feel closer to the truth of a situation.

McGee made copies of the assault reports from the Ronald Reagan. A good agent would use those to look for a pattern. He also made copies of Taylor's financials. There was an interesting series of cash withdrawals in amounts of $500-$2000 in the last few months.

He leaned against the glass window in his living room. The birds were beginning their daily chatter. He knew the sun would begin its ascent in the next hour. It had been a lonely night, one of the first in a long while. Kate hadn't come and Franks was also MIA. He didn't give meaning to it. It was useless. The minute he thought his life was returning to normal was the minute they would return and invade his life again.

…..

Ziva stood in front of his desk, her eyes studying him carefully. He looked up, fighting to maintain a sense of wakefulness. "Hey."

She smiled softly. "Coffee, you and I."

McGee blinked as he thought about what he was doing. "I'm finishing up a report for Gibbs."

"It'll still be there when you get back."

McGee looked past her to Gibbs. "You sure, Boss?"

"Go."

She linked arms with him and rested her head on his shoulder as they headed for the elevator. Gibbs and Tony waited until the elevator closed. "I saw him pull out two folders this morning. He's been hiding them in the left middle drawer. Are you sure, Boss? I've spied before. God knows I'm nosy, but this feels weird."

"Something's wrong, Tony, and I'm tired of guessing."

Looking around, Tony trotted over to McGee's desk, and pulled out the folders. He opened them. "I got assaults reports from the Ronald Reagan from 2002-2003."

Gibbs came over and took them. "What the hell is he doing with these?"

"They never found the perp. Maybe, he's got a hunch."

Gibbs shook his head. "One that he wouldn't share with us? I don't think so."

Tony held up the second folder. "Boss, he's compiling information on one of the Anti-terrorism agents upstairs. Seems this guy was on the Ronald Reagan during the time of the assaults."

Gibbs grabbed it from him. "He's got personnel stuff here. Vance finds out and he's going to boot McGee. What the hell is he up to?"

"You're not going to report him, are you?" Tony said. "Seems to me that the stress is taking over. He needs help, not punishment."

"DiNozzo, get these files copied and put everything back in McGee's drawer."

Tony stared. "Boss…"

"I'm tired of asking questions and getting half answers. Check out a car from the motor pool. You're following McGee tonight."

…

"I don't know what to tell you, Boss. He's parked outside of Taylor's house but he's not moving. The laptop is all lit up. I don't know what the hell he's doing…Yeah, I'm sticking, but what if he tries to go in…Boss, I think I just oughta' go up and tell him to knock it off so we can all go home…All right. All right. I got it." Tony put down the phone and sighed. He leaned back in his seat and continued his surveillance on his probie.

….

Gibbs walked into the smoky bar. It was one of those small neighborhood joints that the same guys went to night after night. There was a smoking ban in D.C. area bars, but these oldtimers were fierce in their protest of 21st century protocols. He spotted the man at the end of the bar. He was heavier than Gibbs remembered and most of his hair was gone from this head. Gibbs grabbed the stool next to his and nodded to the bartender. "Bourbon. Two fingers. Neat."

Green chuckled. "I should've known better than to ignore the kid that called me today. He's one of yours, isn't he?"

"Yup. How ya' doing, Arnie?"

"Not much to say. Wife died of cancer three years ago. My kid lives in Berlin, and sends me postcards on Father's Day like its an obligation. I lost most of my pension in the market, but I still got enough in the bank to come here every day and quench my thirst."

"Seems like a waste. I remember that you had a mighty fine intellect. There's got to something or someone out there for you."

The man sighed deeply. "The ticker is bad. Doc doesn't advise any excitement."

"So the plan is to drown it in whiskey."

He chuckled again. "What, you doing outreach for AA these days, Jethro?"

"Nope. Got a case. Need your help."

"Yeah, I know. I wondered when it would show up as a cold case."

"Sounds like it was a bad one."

"The worst. I retired over it. Promised my wife we'd take a cruise around the world, but I was so angry over it, I spent the first two years at home brooding over it. She should've divorced me. She was a saint is what she was."

"Arnie, the case file has been bleached. There is nothing interesting in the report at all."

"Yeah, the XO whitewashed it. He claimed that none of my conclusions had merit."

"I'm all ears. I want the director's cut on this."

Arnie threw back his whiskey, and signaled for another. Jethro shook his head at the bartender and pointed at the coffee maker. Arnie rolled his eyes but accepted the black coffee. "Rapes. Three of them reported, but I suspected there were as many as ten. Women caught in their bunks, bound and gagged. Beaten. It was ugly. It was hard on those girls. They were victims in a system that has no respect for victims. I heard one of them being shouted at by her CO for being nothing but a weak girl. Then it got worse. Son of a bitch started returning to his victims and assaulting them all over again."

Gibbs shook his head. "Arnie, you had to have suspects."

"I liked guys for it. One of them was Petty Officer named Hanson with a sexual misconduct in his jacket, and the other one was a Lieutenant named Leonard Taylor."

"Why Taylor?"

"They all reported a blonde man and Taylor was spotted by several personnel in the area of two of the assaults. Plus, one of the victims was sure it was him. She saw him in the Mess after her assault and she got hysterical."

"Sounds like a strong case, Arnie."

"Something happened and she wouldn't make an ID. After the repeated assaults, all the women stopped talking. The whole thing slipped away. The XO took out all mention of Hanson and Taylor out of my report. I got the women who reported off the ship. They were in severe emotional distress, but the damage…I can't tell you. Almost every female crewmember on that ship shut down. No one would talk to me. I knew there were other assaults, and I feared that they were continuing. I doubled patrols around the women's quarters and even walked one every night myself until the ship hit port. Plus, I made sure to run into Taylor each and every day to let him know that I knew. He claimed harassment, but I didn't care."

"And nothing else happened?"

"The next time I saw Taylor was six months after the ship docked. He was walking into the building as a new NCIS agent. I put in for retirement that same day."

"So you gave up," Gibbs said watching him closely.

Green glared. "This coffee's hot enough to burn the leather on your face."

"I'm waiting."

"I figured he was too saavy to target women in a law enforcement agency, but out here he has his pick of victims. I talked to a gal down at the Sexual Assault Unit at Metro. They seemed interested for a bit, and one of them was coming out to visit with me. She never showed. I figured that his signature was the fact that he returned to his victims. Never heard of a perp doing that before. But I'm out of it now. I did what I could."

"Arnie, look at me."

The tired man turned to Gibbs. "I'm going to find out if Taylor did this and I'm not going to stop until I do."

The man's rheumy eyes studied Gibbs'. "I really believe you mean that, Jethro. Hell, you do that, and I might start living again."

….

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The Nature of Evil

Chapter 3

McGee's eyes were at half-mast deep in the night. He was still outside Taylor's house. He wasn't exactly sure what he expected from the man at 3 a.m., but with the ugliness that surrounded the man, McGee was afraid to leave him alone.

It made him sick to be even 75 yards away from the man's house. It wasn't just a feeling anymore; there was a smell that went with evil- something akin to rotting flesh. It left him queasy.

He had no plan other to sit here. He wasn't even sure what Taylor had done other than the allegations from the Ronald Reagan. It worried him. What if this was a man that the justice system couldn't contain? What if his crimes were too well hidden? McGee had to ask himself how far he was willing to do to stop this man. Could he kill him in cold blood to save unknown victims? Was he prepared for the consequences he would have to face?

There was a whimper to his left and he peered at the empty passenger seat. "Kate?"

"Franks is right, you know," she responded, her breath ragged. "I'm not a hunter. Do you know why I became an NCIS agent?"

"Tell me."

"I wanted to feel something. Secret Service agents don't get to have feelings. The more robotic you become, the better agent you are. I wanted to see victims avenged. I wanted to help families. I'd heard about Gibbs. Sought him out. I knew he could give me a chance to be part of a full circle. Crime, investigation, arrest, and vengeance for families."

"You were an amazing agent, Kate. I was always in awe of you."

"I never completely loosened up, but I was getting there. I would've had a family. I would've made time for that."

"Regrets."

"No," she said softly. "Just facts."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I don't feel anything about it."

"But you're emotional…"

He felt her head on his shoulder. "You found the evil. And I am the protector. I thought my job was only you, but I can feel them- his victims. They're alive and they're desperate. They're wounded emotionally, some of them physically. They can leave if they want, but their fear of him is like a prison. All they do is sit and wait for the next assault. Some of them see death as the only escape."

"Where?! We need to find them, Kate!"

"It doesn't work like that. I can't find them until you bring me there. There's more than one, more than five. The pain he's collecting is for more than just himself. He serves the spirit world."

"I don't understand."

She clutched his arm as she leaned against him. "Where there is good, there is evil. One cannot exist without the other. There are evil spirits and sometimes they work with the corporeal world too."

"I'm battling more than just a man? Can I beat a spirit?"

"That's why Mike and I are with you. Evil hides well, and you've brought us closer. When you expose his work, we'll find the spirit. We'll protect these women."

"How can I find them?"

"McGee, you are the man who finds everything. Bring me to them and I will give them some peace."

"Is this why I had to be the one? Because I'm good at problemsolving?"

Kate said nothing.

He leaned his head against hers. "I'm scared."

"But I am with you and I'll be here until you don't need me anymore. My job is to keep you safe."

"Saying good-bye to you a second time isn't going to be easy, Kate."

…..

DiNozzo slammed his backpack on his desk. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and a thatch of hair stuck up on the back of his head. Gibbs looked him up and down. "So your go bag wasn't stocked."

"Nope. Just a gym bag."

"Where is he?"

"Well, he gets a shower down in the gym."

"Did he spot you?"

"Don't think so. I'm not even sure he slept. He just sat there outside Taylor's house all night long. Then he drove here." He yawned like a lion. "How long are we doing this? Probie needs help, not surveillance."

"You're right, Tony."

Ziva appeared with an armful of files. "We're set up in conference room A."

"Good."

McGee appeared out of the elevator with a wet head and tired eyes. "Sorry, I'm late, Boss."

"Conference room A." Gibbs turned and led the way. McGee looked at his teammates, but Tony just shrugged and followed Gibbs.

Ziva put the files on the table, and they all sat. McGee looked around the table. "Do we have a case?"

"No, Tim. You had a case you were working and now we have it."

"I don't understand, Boss."

Gibbs leaned across the table. "We know you have secrets, and we know that you're unwilling or unable to share them, but we're a team. We had to take steps."

"Boss?"

"We went through your things, and we know you're investigating Len Taylor."

McGee shook his head. "I know I don't have probable cause, and I can't explain how I know, but he's evil and I know he's hurting people. You have to believe me."

"The only thing we have to do, Tim, is have your six."

"What does that mean?" Tim looked teary.

Ziva took his hand. "We don't need to know your reasons. You lead and we'll follow."

"Really?"

Tony scratched his hair. "It's better than sleeping in my car every night."

"But we have to have rules. You can keep your secrets, but we work together now. No more freelancing."

McGee nodded.

"I mean it, Tim. Hacking personnel files was way out of bounds. Abby is trying to clean that up, and she says you were not nearly as careful as you usually are."

"Sorry about that."

"I've spoken with Arnie Green about Taylor. He confirms what you think. XO took his suspicions out of his report."

Ziva placed a hand on the files. "I have the files of the sailors he assaulted. I'm sorry to say that two of them have suicided, but the third one lives."

McGee drew in breath sharply. "We need to get to her. He still hurts her."

Her eyes widened. "You know this?"

"She doesn't know how to escape him, and she's suffering terribly."

Ziva stared at him. "How do you know this?!"

"I feel it! I feel their pain and his evil."

Tony shook his head. "Boss, this isn't right. This is not what I meant by helping him."

McGee turned to Gibbs. "Please! Help me stop him. After that, I will accept any consequence, any help that you think I need. Anything you want."

Gibbs nodded slowly. "This is what we do. We investigate crimes and we catch bad guys."

Tony stood. "You're ignoring his problems. He talks like he's a freak psychic or something. He needs help!"

McGee looked up at him. "We stop Taylor first, Tony. Then you can enroll me in the laughing academy for as long as you want."

Gibbs nodded. "Ziva, you visit this sailor. Find out if he's still assaulting her. Do what you have to in order to keep her safe. Tony, you take our profile to Metro Sexual Assault. Find out if any victims are reporting repeat assaults. Tim, you have to figure out who his other victims are."

"Kate already told me."

Everyone in the room froze and McGee closed his eyes. Tony's mouth dropped open. "Kate!? Did you say Kate?"

McGee clasped his hands together tightly but said nothing.

"Tony, I gave you an assignment."

DiNozzo turned on him. "Do you just not care? I know you heard him."

"He's going to be with me, DiNozzo."

Tony shook his head. "We'll see what Ducky says." He took off, slamming the door behind him.

The three of them were silent for a long moment, and then Ziva got up. She leaned over and kissed him on the head. "I'm doing this because I know you need it, but you're scaring me, my brother."

She smiled at him with tears in her eyes and left the room. McGee looked at Gibbs. "Thank you, Boss."

Gibbs was staring down at the table. "Find the victims, Tim. Find them."

…..

Gibbs got off his phone and looked over at McGee. "Please go down and let Ducky poke at you for a bit. DiNozzo has been done there. Ducky has the power to kick you out of this building."

McGee looked up from his work. "I'm cross referencing Taylor's phone records."

"Just do it, Tim."

McGee went to the back elevator and hit the down button. The door opened and he climbed in. Like a cat in the night, a body leapt past him as the doors closed. McGee whirled and found himself face to face with Taylor. "Hey Twins fan."

McGee reached past to hit the button for the sub-basement, but Taylor grabbed his arm with one hand and pressed the stop button with the other. "I think you and I should go to the bar and watch a game real soon."

McGee studied his face but said nothing.

Taylor laughed. "You are a bad choice for this. I can't believe this is the best they could come up with."

"I suspect that the only way to stop you is to kill you."

"Try it," Taylor laughed. "You are such an amateur. I've been doing this for years. Nobody can touch me."

"I'm not alone, Taylor. You kill me and they'll come for you."

"I don't kill people, McGee. I just wait until they can't see life for the pain. Then they leave this earth all on their own."

"That won't happen to me."

"I think when you realize that I can't be stopped and that you have failed these women, you're going to find it hard to live with yourself."

"How many?"

He grinned. "I'm going to tell you so you can choke on it. There are 13 surviving. 9 have departed this world."

McGee was on him, driving him into the buttons on the wall. His swings were wild, and Taylor pushed him back and drove him against the opposite wall. McGee slid down and Taylor climbed on top, slugging him in the face. McGee used his wrestling to roll him over, and he quickly kneed in the groin.

Behind him, the door slid open and Gibbs was there, gun drawn. "Get up, Taylor!"

Taylor used the wall of the elevator to stand. "He jumped me."

Gibbs holstered his gun and walked into Taylor, breathing hard. "That's not what I saw. You got 10 seconds to disappear or we can make this a really big deal."

Taylor smiled. "I have resources you'll never understand."

Gibbs watched him disappear up the stairs. Then he reached in the elevator and offered McGee a hand. McGee grunted as he got to his feet and Gibbs reached over and wiped the blood off his mouth with his thumb. "We better clean you up before Ducky sees you."

"He told me that there are 13 still living. 13, Boss, and 9 dead. I'm going to have to kill him. Not sure there's another way to stop him."

Gibbs shook his head. "We're nowhere near that, Tim. Not yet."

…

"I don't know what to say to either of you. Clearly, I'm required to be silent as you both play out this charade."

McGee jumped off the examining table. "It's my life, Ducky, not a charade."

"Really? Delusions, insomnia, an overdose, a busted up face. How much do you expect me to ignore?"

"Duck, we're handling it."

Ducky faced Gibbs. "Really, Jethro? What are you handling?"

"Come on. You've never had a dream that inspired you in life? You never dreamt about falling and then avoided high places for the next week? I don't have to understand what was in his dreams; all I know is that it inspired something very real. McGee's dreams found a monster- a real one. Stopping this monster is the solution to his problems."

Ducky narrowed his eyes. "You really believe that?"

"13 women raped more than once but the same predator. 9 more dead because they could no longer endure the abuse."

"How do you know that?"

"He told me, Ducky," McGee said, massaging his jaw.

"Oh my God. You're sure about this?"

"Yeah Gibbs, are you sure about this?"

They all turned to find Vance in the doorway. Gibbs smirked. "He went to you."

"He did not. I had a little visit from HR this morning. Seems one of my best agents has been hacking personnel files."

McGee closed his eyes.

"Leon, you need to hear the whole story."

Vance fixed Gibbs with a glare. "Just tell me one thing. Do we really have a predator in my agency; someone who has assaulted that many women?"

"Yeah Leon, I think we do."

Vance worried his lip for a moment. "Why has this been a secret?"

"I came upon the information by unorthodox means. I knew it wouldn't be enough for an authorized investigation, Sir."

"How did you get those bruises?"

McGee glanced at Gibbs. "I got 'em from Taylor. I'd like to think I hurt him as bad."

"We can't turn this agency into the Wild West. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Gibbs, this investigation is now authorized. If he's done what you say he's done, I want you to crush him."

Gibbs nodded. "And McGee?"

"When this is over McGee, you're getting a month long suspension without pay, and it's going into your file."

"Leon!"

"Boss please, it's the least I deserve."

"You got that right, McGee. I want a sit rep on this every day. You hear me?" Vance stalked left autopsy without waiting for a response.

….

Ziva walked through the large community garden where kids were busy picking snap peas. At a picnic at the back, sat a woman in a long sleeve t-shirt shucking corn. "Sister Ruth?"

The woman looked up and smiled. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

"It is. May I sit?"

"Of course. What can I do for you?"

"My name is Special Agent Ziva David. I'm with NCIS."

The woman had deep brown eyes and curly red hair. Ziva watched the woman's face shift at the introduction. "Someone has finally become interested in my story."

Ziva nodded. "I'm sorry it took so long."

"He's protected by evil spirits."

Ziva felt a shiver run through her. "Let's clarify that we are talking about the same person. Can you tell me who your attacker was?"

"Petty Officer Leonard Taylor."

"He is the one who attacked you on the Ronald Reagan?"

She nodded. "And for four years after I left the Navy."

Ziva grasped the woman's hand. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I did. I knew he was NCIS so I went to Metro. They couldn't make a case. Then he threatened to hurt my sister so I stopped telling anyone."

"How often did he come?"

"Once a month, once a week. I never knew. Every night I sat on the couch, my knees up to my chin, waiting."

"You were a trained military specialist."

She smiled. "I understand why you're struggling with this, but I wasn't passive. I fought back, moved, changed locks- nothing worked. Twice, I tried to shoot him, but both times my gun malfunctioned. I was at his mercy."

Ziva rubbed at her eyes. "You must've felt terrorized."

Sister Ruth pulled up a sleeve revealing the ugly scars on the inside of her right wrist. "This was my first attempt. I tried again with pills, but I didn't die. God had other plans. My friends from the Ronald Reagan weren't so lucky."

"How did you get him to leave you alone?"

"I came to understand that he was being protected by something otherworldly, something evil. I studied everything that was written. I realized that I didn't need a gun for protection, I needed God. I came to the convent and devoted my life to service. And I don't just count on the Catholic church. I use Eastern remedies, Kabbalah, and Santeria. I wear crosses and amulets. If there is a protection out there from evil spirits, I have incorporated it. My sisters struggled with it in the beginning, but they know my story and they've come to accept it." She smiled. "He came one night to the convent about five years ago. You should've seen them: baseball bats, candlesticks, and kitchen knives. They almost killed him and he never returned."

Ziva gave a ragged sigh. "I would've paid money to see that."

"Can you stop him?"

"I have a dear friend, a brother, who is being guided by what you might call an angel. It's been hard for us to accept the truth of this." Ziva wiped at a tear on her cheek. "I look in your eyes, and suddenly I believe everything. Will you come with me to meet him? I think you can help us."

Ruth looked down at the table. "It would be the first time I have left the protection of the convent in a long time."

Ziva squeezed her hands. "I will protect you, Sister. I promise you."

"You think we can stop him?"

"I think we have spirits on our side too."

….

"Well, I got the goods from the Sexual Assault unit at Metro," Tony said as he swung his backpack onto his chair. He turned to his audience and tried to not to show too much surprise at seeing Vance there. Then he spotted the bruises on McGee's face. "Who?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Stay focused, Tony. What did they say?"

"There is a predator out there targeting the same women over and over. Taylor has been on their radar for a long time."

"Son of a bitch! Whatever happened to intergency cooperation?" Vance said shaking his head.

"Yeah," DiNozzo eyed him warily. "They haven't been able to get a handle on it. The detective in charge said his partner went out to talk with Arnie Green years ago. Sounded promising. Then the detective went to speak to Taylor. He got hit and killed by a drunk driver before he got back to the office. They've talked to several women over the years who have described a blonde man with a red claiming he worked law enforcement. One woman even claimed he told her he was NCIS. But they couldn't get anyone on record. In the last five years, they have isolated 14 reported rapes that fit the same profile. Three of them reported being assaulted by the same man twice. Five of the 14 committed suicide within two years of their reports, and 10 of the women recanted testimony or refused to sign statements. These guys are overwhelmed with case, and this whole thing became a logistical nightmare for them, but we had a little talk about how we can help one another in these situations. He said some nonsense of being worried that NCIS would try to cover it up- reputation and all that."

Vance put out a hand. "I need a name and a phone number. I want those cases and I want them now."

He snatched a piece of paper from Tony and headed for the stairs. Tony shook his head. "He's like a man on fire."

"Leon takes the reputation of this place very seriously. That Metro detective isn't going to know what hit him by the time Vance gets done, and I guarantee you we'll have those files by the morning," Gibbs said.

Tony pointed at McGee. "I want to know who tuned you up."

"Abby."

"So you're a funny guy, huh?"

"I handled it."

"Taylor attacked you on our turf, didn't he?"

"Actually, I attacked him."

"Vance find out about the other stuff?"

"Yup. Too late for you to go up and tell him yourself."

"Really? I worry about you and go to Ducky, and this is the response I get."

"That's enough, you two."

The elevator opened and Ziva came through with a woman with curly red hair. She steered her into the bullpen. "This is Sister Ruth Thomas. She was…on the Ronald Reagan with Taylor."

Gibbs came forward and shook her hand. "Thanks for coming."

She searched their faces. "Timothy?"

McGee nodded. "I'm here."

Sister Ruth teared up and reached for his hands. "Thank you."

McGee sucked in breath.

"You can feel it, can't you? I've waited so long to find someone who can understand."

McGee pulled her in and held her tightly. "I am so sorry, Sister Ruth. So sorry."

Tony looked at Ziva. "What's happening here?"

"Shhh!" She wagged a finger. "Open your mind."

McGee patted her back. "I have a friend who wants to help you."

Sister Ruth pulled away. "She understands the spirits?"

"Oh Yes."

"Hi Ruth."

They all turned to find Taylor standing there. "Long time, no see. How's it going at the Nunnery?"

Ruth's eyes widened and McGee held her hands tightly. Gibbs got between them. "You need to go."

He shrugged. "I heard an old friend was in the building. Can't blame a guy for wanting to say hi."

Tony tried to push past Gibbs, but Gibbs held him tight. "We don't do this here, DiNozzo."

Neither of them was paying any attention to Ziva who had unsheathed her knife and climbed over the divider on Gibbs's desk. She landed on the ground behind Taylor and pounced, holding him around the neck, knife to his carotid. "I don't like you. You're a predator and you deserve to die with your face in the dirt."

Gibbs let go of Tony. "Ziva! Let go!"

"He is here to frighten Ruth and I won't allow it. I promised her she would be safe."

Tony approached. "No one knows a direct route to a solution better than you, but the right solution doesn't include you going to jail. Do you understand, my sweet little falafel?"

Ruth let go of McGee. "Your friend is right. Taylor can't hurt me anymore. I have given my whole life to God. Taylor fears the almighty."

Taylor laughed. "Ruth, don't kid yourself. We only stopped being friends because you grew so ugly."

Ziva tightened her grip on his neck, but Taylor still smiled. "Try it, Israeli. See what happens."

Gibbs shook his head sharply and Ziva relaxed her grip. She let go and stepped back. Taylor stepped away, his face beet red, and stabbed a finger at Gibbs. "Look around the room. There are witnesses."

"Well, then you better start getting some statements. Don't let us keep you."

Taylor stumbled toward the elevator. Gibbs turned to his team. "The next one of you that puts your hands on him without a good reason, I will personally boot out of this agency!"

Ziva cocked her head. "Ooops! His phone accidentally fell out of his pocket. Would someone like to copy his contacts before he comes back looking for it."

McGee snatched it from her and ran to his computer. Tony grinned at Sister Ruth. "Don't mind us. It's Commit a Felony week here at NCIS. Crazy fun for all.

….

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

The Nature of Evil

Chapter 4

McGee woke before the sun rose. He lifted his head from his desk and looked around. Only Gibbs was still there sleeping what he liked to call a sniper's dozen. He sat leaning back in his chair snoring softly. McGee knew how easy it was to wake the boss so he moved very slowly from behind his desk. Once on his feet, he moved quietly along the wall until he found the back staircase. He trotted down to the evidence garage. It was a cavernous space, dim and quiet, at this time of the night.

McGee felt claustrophobic at times, and he often felt like his thoughts expanded congruent to the space they were in. Many nights he would come down here to pace through a problem. Tonight, he had a different agenda. "Mike! Kate! Where are you?"

He closed his eyes and waited. "Have you left me? Would you do that? It's been so many days. We found the first victim, Ruth. She needs our help. She's back in her apartment near the convent, and I worry about her all the time. Ziva checks in with her every day. They've formed quite an attachment. She's no good as a defendant. There's no physical evidence. If something doesn't happen soon, I'll probably lose my job. Vance can only justify suspending me if there was a compelling reason for what I did."

He waited again. "Did I do something wrong? You said I was chosen for a reason. I still don't know what that was. We've found most of his living victims. Most are too frightened to talk. We're working with a couple of them, but they've been really traumatized. They see him as this indestructible force. I don't know if we'll get any of them to testify. Every time, someone tries to stop him, something goes wrong. Sister Ruth thinks he has evil spirits with him. Kate, you told me the same."

He threw his arms up. "You've made me the doorway from your world to this. I can feel things I shouldn't be able to feel. I know just by being in his presence that he's evil. I can feel the pain of the women he's hurt. It's agony for me. Imagine what it's like for them. You've invaded my life, forced this on me, and now you've abandoned me. Why?"

He covered his face and thought for a long moment. "Am I supposed to sacrifice myself? Is that the only way to catch the man who can't be touched? Is that what you want from me?"

"No!"

McGee looked toward the stairwell. "Boss, I thought I was finally quiet enough to get by you."

"Well, when that day comes, it's time for me to hang up my spurs."

"I can't explain what you just saw."

"You don't need to."

"Why not? You've been so unexpected through all this. You are always so impatient without all the answers, but not this time. Now, you're nothing but patient."

"Hey, I guess we both get to have our secrets."

McGee sighed. "I have to do something. This is on my shoulders."

"No, it's not. We're all in this now."

"You don't understand, Boss."

"More than you know."

McGee narrowed his eyes at Gibbs, but both men were too private to share more.

"McGee, it's 3:30 in the morning. You're going to look pretty ragged if you don't get a couple more hours of shut eye."

"What about you?"

"Tony and Ziva are staking out Taylor's home. I should go out and check on them."

McGee nodded. "Alright, Boss."

….

McGee felt like he'd just rested his head on the desk again when he heard his name. His head popped up. "Boss?"

"Tim, it's me."

"What the hell, Kate? Where have you been?"

"We have no time. He's going to finish her."

McGee scrambled to his feet. "Who, Kate?"

"Sister Ruth. I am with her now, and I can feel her fear."

"Tony and Ziva are watching his house. They wouldn't let him leave like that."

"Stop arguing with me. He's going to hurt her."

McGee grabbed his gun and ran for the elevator.

…..

"McGee, he hasn't left the house…No, I can't handle any more of this cryptic shit. There is no way he can be across town…Hold on." Tony wrestled with Ziva as she grabbed for the phone. "Stop it, Ziva! Probie's off his rocker."

"Where is he?"

"He says Taylor is after your Sister Ruth, you and I both know that he's right here."

"Give me that phone or I swear to God!"

Tony surrendered it and banged his head against the back of the seat. "McGee needs help. We can't keep playing this game with him."

Ziva put the phone to her ear. "Are you sure?...She doesn't have a cell phone, McGee…Ah, I will try her home phone…Would you like me to come?...He'll be pissed but we can do that…I'll call you when I know."

She hung up. "Let's confirm he's in the house."

"We have been watching the house from all directions ever since he pulled in."

"Tony, let's confirm he's in the house."

He sighed. "I just worry that none of this is really helping my Mcprobie."

"Come on. Pissing off Taylor kind of appeals to me."

….

"Kate, is she okay?"

"She's frightened, Tim. Paralyzed. I've tried to comfort her, but she senses him."

"Is he there?"

"Yes."

"We need Franks."

"He's here too."

"I'm only a few minutes away."

…..

"Yes Mrs. Taylor, I understand your concerns about harassment, but we have to confirm he's home."

She wrapped the terrycloth robe tightly around her middle. "I'm going to call my lawyer."

Tony gave Ziva a look. "Go ahead. But first, you need to produce your husband or you'll be facing an obstruction charge."

"What's going on here?"

Ziva turned to Gibbs coming up the walk. "McGee thinks Taylor is after Sister Ruth, but we haven't seen Taylor leave the house."

"What's her address, Ziva!"

"Hold on." Ziva thumbed through her phone. "1325 Crestview Dr., Anacostia."

Gibbs turned and ran for his car. Tony and Ziva watched this. Then Tony turned back to Mrs. Taylor. "You have 30 seconds to find him or I'm coming in and searching this place myself."

…..

The front door to Sister Ruth's modest apartment complex was locked and so McGee did the time honored maneuver of pressing all the buttons. It took only a few seconds for someone to buzz him in. Holding his gun below his waist, he ran up to the third floor and down the hallway. He knocked sharply on her door but got no response. He yelled out his name and badge and still heard nothing. A neighbor opened a door, but McGee waved her back inside.

Breaking down a door was not his strong suit, but he had learned a trick from some firefighters that made it much easier. He turned with his back to the door, raised a knee, and kicked back with all his strength. The door caved and he fell backwards into the apartment. A man was on top of him, and McGee brought his gun up, but the man slapped it out of his hands.

They rolled around for a moment, and McGee was able to gain enough leverage to throw a hard left to his jaw. The man went limp, and McGee climbed off him. He wore a ski mask and McGee pulled it off revealing Taylor's distinctive features.

He hadn't remembered his cuffs, and he screwed protocol, going in search of Sister Ruth. He found her tied up in her bedroom, her shirt torn open. He found a blanket and covered her. He would need to take the key off Taylor for her handcuffs, but he could get the gag off her mouth. He sat on the bed to do this when he saw her eyes widen. He saw a flash from the right and then Taylor was on McGee, slamming him into the headboard. McGee's vision went black for a moment as he slid to the ground. When he woke, Taylor was on his torso. McGee knew the importance of carrying a spare weapon, and he reached for the knife under his arm. He didn't have to take time to aim as Taylor was right over him so he jabbed it into his chest, but it bounced off. Then the knife was yanked from his hand, flying into the air.

McGee frowned. It made no sense. The stench of evil hit him hard, and he could hear Taylor murmuring something under his breath. McGee closed his eyes and concentrated. "Kate! Franks!"

Taylor punched him hard and then again. McGee felt his world slipping away again as he reached behind his head to the floor under the bed. His hand landed on something wooden and cylindrical. With his remaining strength he dragged it out and landed it as hard as he could on the side of Taylor's head. It was a baseball bat, and the sound it made as it met flesh was like of a watermelon splitting. Taylor stared at him for a brief second and then fell over like a tree.

McGee grunted as he struggled to push Taylor off him. Finally, he got his legs back and he stared down at Taylor who lie still, blood pouring out of his ears. McGee sagged against the nightstand, too tired to do anything but breathe. He contemplated helping the sister when he caught sight of the knife still suspended in air. Then he knew they weren't alone.

"Katie, you stay to the left of the beast. Knives don't mean nothing to us unless another spirit is wielding it."

"Shut up, Mike! This isn't my first rodeo."

"I'm just trying to make sure it ain't your last."

McGee stared up at the knife bobbing in the air. Then the knife straightened and dove. There was a loud groan. "Damn beast got me in the side, Katie."

"It's okay, Mike. I got this."

"Careful," he grunted. "This is a sly one. He's sparring with us, but what he really wants is these innocents. He gets that knife in one of them, and his power triples."

"I'm not an idiot. I've been dead longer than you."

"But you ain't done much but hold little girls' hands. I'm just saying."

"Shut up so I can concentrate."

McGee felt like he was in a trance as he watched the knife bob and weave around the room. He thought about the sister still on the bed, and he realized she was totally exposed. He pulled himself upright and crawled on top of her. "Sorry, Sister, it's for your safety."

He contemplated dragging her into another room, but he only had enough energy to stay conscious. The knife moved above him like a coiled snake, and he had to remember to breathe.

"Katie!" Franks yelled as the knife dove suddenly at McGee. McGee waited for impact, but instead felt the pressure of another body on his. She screamed as the knife drove into her invisible body. McGee felt three violent thrusts before the knife was grabbed into the air again. Then there was a monstrous thud in the corner of the ceiling, and grunts as the knife stabbed upward time and again. Then a howl and a stench that stole McGee's breathe. There was a bang as the body hit the floor and then the knife clattered to the ground.

The weight on McGee rolled off him and landed on the floor. Bewildered, he tried to raise his head. "Kate? Mike?"

"Bastard's dead," Franks growled.

"Kate?"

"She's hurt bad."

McGee heard her groaning on the floor and he pulled himself over the side of the bed, careful to not fall on top of her. "Kate, are you okay?"

She whimpered in reply. He felt her torso and found the stickiness of blood. She flinched. He pulled his hand back and found it clean and dry. "Kate, you're going to be okay. You're a spirit, a ghost. Ghosts don't die, do they?"

Her breath was shallow. "It's okay, Tim."

He lifted his head. "Mike, tell me that ghosts don't die."

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Spirits can destroy other spirits with the tools of the corporeal world."

"Then what?"

"You think I know? Do you know what happens when you die? I don't have a manual on this any more than you do."

McGee stroked her hair. "Aw Kate, don't scare me like this. I was beginning to convince myself that you were back for good."

She moaned. McGee heard the creaking of joints and knew Franks was kneeling beside him. The older man reached out and took her hand. "Katie, I'm real sorry. I let you down."

McGee felt her shake her head. Tears welled up in his eyes. "It's okay, Mike. She protects. Nobody does it better or more selflessly than my friend, Kate."

"I'm just sad we ain't going to have more adventures together. You got guts and you ain't half bad on the eyes either."

She coughed up a bubble of blood, and McGee stroked her face. "Don't make her laugh, Mike."

He stayed there stroking her face until he felt the breath leave her. Her body went limp. "Is she gone, Mike?"

"Yeah, boy, she's gone."

His chest heaved and McGee let the tears fall down his face. He put his arm around her waist and rested his face next to hers. He felt Mike's hand on his shoulder. "Let it out, son. Those tears are a fitting tribute to a courageous and righteous woman."

There was banging in the front room and McGee heard his name. He said nothing as he lay on the floor holding on to a body that was losing definition beneath him. Gibbs broke through the bedroom door. "McGee!"

He surveyed the room: the nun gagged and handcuffed on the bed, the predator on the floor beside the bed bleeding from his head, and his youngest agent on the other side, sobbing into the floor. He went to McGee first and rolled him on his back. "How bad are you?"

"Kate's dead, Boss. She's dead all over again."

Gibbs stepped back and stared at him. There was no possible response to that so he turned his attention to Taylor. A quick survey and check of the carotid showed that the man was dead. He couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief. Then he went to the sister and took off her gag. She made only incoherent sounds. He picked up his cell and growled, "Ducky, I need two ambulances and autopsy wagon at 1325 Crestview, Anacostia."

He hung up rather than field questions. There were noises behind him and Tony and Ziva were there. Gibbs pointed at Sister Ruth, "Ziva, please."

Tony shook his head. "What the hell happened here?"

McGee was still racked with sobs. Tony knelt beside him. "You okay, Tim?"

"Kate died a second time, Tony."

Tony pulled McGee into his arms and looked at Gibbs. "Do you hear this!? We're not doing it your way anymore."

Gibbs nodded, tears glistening in his eyes.

…..

Gibbs threw a hammer at the concrete blocks of his basement. "Mike, you hear me!? You get your ass down here!"

There was nothing so he picked up his largest wrench and threw it even harder at that same wall, chipping the concrete. "Show yourself, Franks! I mean it!"

Finally, he heard a chuckle. "Nobody summons spirits quite like you, Probie."

"What the hell were you doing?! Why McGee? You almost killed him, you bastard!"

"The boy did good."

"Shut up! I was here. There was no reason to go with McGee."

"I didn't pick him. Kate did."

"Kate," Gibbs' voice broke. "How…why…what happened to her?"

"She's all instinct when it come to protecting others. I remember you telling me about it, but it has to be seen to be believed."

"What happened to her?"

Franks hesitated. "I can only hope that she caught St. Peter's eye this time. She deserves a spot among the best."

Gibbs sagged against his work bench. "I don't understand why she would choose McGee. It was too much for him. Right from the beginning, he had to stretch himself in ways that he wasn't prepared to do. It cost him too much. He's in a psychiatric unit, Mike."

"Jethro, when you and I have these illuminating talks, I am aware that you cannot see me. What you are not aware of is what I see when I look at you."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't see your movie star face anymore. Instead, I see colors. The colors shift and change. They give me information about your life force. I know how you are doing emotionally by the colors of your presence."

"Oh God, Mike, who cares?"

"They also show your vitality, the kind of time you have left on this world. They don't tell us when or how, but they tell us if your time is short or long."

"I don't want to know my vitality, Mike."

"Good 'cause I ain't telling ya'. Only Kate was concerned about Tim. His time was short, very short indeed."

Gibbs felt fear rising in his chest. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Katie felt an urge to protect him, and she thought that if she used him as our vessel into the corporeal world, he might be able to change his destiny. She took a chance, Jethro."

"I'm afraid to ask."

Franks chuckled. "His vitality is real strong again. I don't know what happened, but the boy turned it around."

Gibbs rubbed his face. "Damn you, Mike!"

"I know. I'm a laugh a minute. I wish you could have seen her. She did good."

"I didn't need to see her to know that."

"Take care of the boy, Jethro. I've acquired a real fondness for him."

"You leave him alone, Mike. You need help and you come to me. It's going to take weeks to get him back on track."

Franks chuckled again and was gone.

…

Gibbs found Ziva curled up on a stiff hospital sofa. He sat down beside her, placing a cup of coffee under her nose. It wrinkled and her eyes popped open. "Hey."

"How are McGee and Sister Ruth?"

The sister is surrounded by members of her order. She is very relieved that he's gone. As for McGee, he's quiet. Sleeps a lot. It can't be a bad thing for him. All of that spirit energy he was exposed to must've been exhausting."

"Then you believe what—"

"Gibbs, I believe whatever he asks me to believe. He's my partner, my brother, and my friend."

"He's a lucky man."

She sighed. "As am I."

"Hey, sleeping on the job again, David."

Ziva looked up at Tony. "Do you have food?"

"Of course," he said handing her a bag from her favorite Chilean place. "And I have very interesting news."

"What?"

"We did a thorough search of the Taylor house and came up with some interesting stuff. Taylor had a little office in the basement. Here's the kicker: he was tracking McGee three weeks before we knew about him."

Gibbs frowned. "How can that be? Tim told us within a day of meeting Taylor."

"Abby and I checked his phone logs, and we found three calls to the records desk. We talked to Ginger, the iron maiden, who guards our casefiles, and she said that he wanted to know whenever the Ronald Reagan assaults came up as a cold case. Ginger is in charge of assigning those. She called him and told him that he shouldn't worry. The case was coming up and it was going to the agent with the best cold case solve rate in the agency- McGee. I wasn't aware that we tracked those stats. Going to have to be more aware of my performance in that area."

"So Taylor knew that McGee was going to get the case?"

"Yeah. Hell, McGee was so distracted he never knew. It's still sitting at her desk. Here's the wild part; Taylor was building pipe bombs and he had the schematics for McGee's model and year of car plus McGee's home address. The bastard was trying to perfect his bomb so he could off McGee. Wait 'til the probie hears that."

Gibbs closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, Tony. It's been enough. Let it be. The monster is dead. We won."

"Against what? Evil? Spirits and ghosts?"

"Tony, he needs you. You let his truth be his truth."

Tony looked at Ziva and she nodded.

He sighed. "Can I at least ask him if Kate was still as hot as ever?"

"No!" They shouted in unison.

…..

"McGee, it's time to go home."

Tim looked up from his desk. "I'm good, Boss. Really."

"We can't have this conversation every day. It's been eight hours at work and you're still on light duty. You follow doctor's orders and I can start working you into the ground again as soon as next week."

McGee nodded. "Ziva, come here so I can show you the programs I'm running. You should get a hit on the financials in the next hour or so."

"Hey, why not me! Why does she get all the geek work?"

They all looked at DiNozzo, and Gibbs slowly drawled. "Maybe it's because you tried to open McGee's personal files while you were waiting for his snooper programs to finish, and because of that, McGee's unauthorized privacy alarms have gone off twice in the last two weeks. You don't remember Dorneget panicking and pulling his gun on all of us?"

"I've learned my lesson."

"And I'm not in the mood to test that. Get going, McGee."

McGee slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed for the elevator. Tony stared after him. Gibbs watched him. "What's wrong, DiNozzo?"

"He doesn't talk to me."

Ziva looked up. "He's been quiet with all of us since…"

"He was two weeks in the hospital and I waited. He came back to work three weeks ago, and I've waited. He's mad at me because I didn't believe him. I know it."

Ziva looked at Gibbs. "He's quiet with all of us, Tony. Don't worry about it so much."

Tony reluctantly went back to his work. Gibbs regarded him for another minute. Finally he sighed. "Okay Tony, go find him."

"Seriously?"

"Go."

Tony grabbed his gear and ran for the open elevator.

…

Tony found him sitting on a bench looking out on the Anacostia. He swung his backpack off his shoulder and sat down. McGee cocked his head. "Call out?"

"Nope. Boss paroled me early."

McGee turned back to the river. "I should go home, but it's rush hour. I never go home at rush hour. It's bumper to bumper on the way to Silver Springs right now."

Tony nodded. "Tim, I got questions. Is too soon to ask questions?"

McGee turned and squinted at him in the face of the setting sun. "I'm not crazy."

"That wasn't even one of my questions. How about that!"

"Okay, ask your questions."

Tony sighed. "Why you? Why not me or Gibbs? Why did she pick you?"

"Is that a serious question?"

"As a heart attack."

Tim nodded. "I've been wondering the same thing myself. I kept asking her. She never really answered. She said I had special skills, but it didn't make sense."

"She didn't say anything about me?"

McGee studied him. "You really believe me now?"

Tony shrugged. "I don't have a choice. This fits better than the alternative."

"She didn't talk about you or Gibbs. She was focused on victims."

"I just thought that maybe she chose you because Gibbs and I failed her on that roof. I thought maybe she was mad at us."

McGee shook his head. "Not our Kate. There was never anything petty about her."

"I guess I'm a little jealous. I miss her, you know. I just wish she had reached out to me."

"I know."

The sun started its descent into the horizon behind Tony's head.

McGee frowned. "Boss came to visit me at the hospital. He told me that Taylor was targeting me before I was even on to him. Maybe, that's why she picked me. Maybe, Taylor would've gotten me if I didn't get him first."

Tony looked away. "That evil bastard was right on our doorstep, and we never knew it. I wish to hell you hadn't killed him so quick. I would've wanted time with that hump."

"She gave me a chance to feel evil, Tony. I felt it in him without knowing a single thing. That's gone now, and part of me is relieved, but another part of me wishes I still had that ability. It would make our jobs a lot easier."

"But you would also feel people's pain, wouldn't you?"

McGee nodded.

"Naw, we couldn't have that."

Both men were silent as dusk deepened around them.

"McGee, I'm sorry it took me so long to believe you."

McGee snorted. "Tony, if she had gone to you; imagine how long it would've taken for me to believe you. I'm no different. We are who we are."

"Good point."

McGee smiled. "Those computer alarms are really something. Vance made me deactivate them after Dorneget went postal."

Tony chuckled. "Poor guy! He was so lucky Gibbs or Ziva didn't mow him down where he stood. Gibbs had to disarm him. Vance sent him back down to firearms instruction for having the safety off on his weapon."

"Ouch!"

"He'll be okay." Tony said. "More importantly, you're going to be okay too."

"I am."

Tony slapped him on the back. "Happy hour? Come on. I'm buying."

"No way! What happened the last time you took me out for happy hour when I was not at my best?"

"I'm a different person now."

"Three hours in, I was on a table dancing and auctioning off my clothing and you're filming the whole thing."

"To my credit, I never posted the video."

"No, you just used it for extortion purposes." McGee shook his head and grinned. "You know, Tony, there isn't one ounce of evil in you, but you are pure devil."

Tony smiled. "Okay. I can live with that."

McGee got up and patted him on the shoulder. "Let's go find something to eat."

"Happy hour!"

"One beer."

"We'll see about that," DiNozzo said with a glint in his eye.

…..

The End


End file.
